Tribute to Claymore
by Ninefifteen
Summary: Alice is a Claymore of the 80th generation. She's a special one... and fighting yomas is not her real purpose.
1. Chapter 1 : Introduction

**Disc **: I do not own Claymore.

That fic differs from the canon after the battle VS Agatha in Ravona. This is my first fic... sorry for mistakes, english is not my mother language.

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**Chapter 1**

That was the end. The monster, enormous sticky pile of flesh, was lying farther. He was pierced by a huge sword, the cloud of dust raised by the fight still floating upon him. In the falling darkness, the moon gradually entered the dark blue sky. In the soil, at the edge of the precipice, Alice had fallen down, her face against the ground; her back, hurt by the claws of the Awakened Being, was nothing more than a gaping wound. The skin was torn to pieces, letting bared flesh and blood. And yet her left hand still firmly held her sword.

Albane fell to her knees near the broken body. In the heat of the fight, she hadn't seen her fall… she took a brief look around her: another corpse was lying in the dust farther. The separated head excused her from checking if her other friend was still alive. And Alice? What about her? She certainly sensed an energy coming from her, but weak, so weak… Albane didn't dare to touch her, afraid that a simple contact might break into millions of pieces the wounded body…

The pulsation of her energy was irregular, tiny, as if it was breathless; but certainly it was there. Albane sighed of relief, but soon she was again filled with fear: did she have enough strength to use her own yoki power without any risk, enough strength to try and heal a little bit Alice's wound? She took a deep breath in the wind that was coming up from the precipice and tried to concentrate. She laid her hand flat on the gaping wound, so close but however not touching it, and she closed her eyes. Weakened by the fight, she needed more time to get to her power, but she finally sensed the fluid spurt out of her vital point, going through her veins, filling them with life, and concentrate into her palm. Then, slowly, meticulously, her hand went all along the wound, surrounding it with the gentle cloudy light that her power created in her palm.

She knew that she wouldn't resist a long time; attending to the most urgent things first, she tried to contain the flow of blood which couldn't stop running from Alice's body. A moment after, the energy was holding back the red liquid; but Albane felt like she was definitely worn out. The exercise had even made her breathless; it was never happened since a very long time… Since the Organization was born, she was one of the few people who know how to use her yoki aura as some kind of "essence of life", strong enough to cure the deepest wounds; her power was as strong as it made the cloudy light that appeared just before.

Now that Alice could certainly have some rest, Albane could take her breath back and, when she became quiet again, she stood up. She passed near the dead monster without looking at him to join her other friend. As usual in that kind of cases, and with friendship too, she wanted the warrior to have a decent grave. It would be a basic one of course, but a decent one.

She stopped in front of the huddled up corpse; after a moment of despair, she softly took her friend in her arms and laid her down farther. For this she chose a clean area of soil, without any spot of monstrous blood. She laid her on her back, her hands crossed over her chest, hiding her unique symbol: a little triangle in the middle of a Christian cross. Albane came back where she had found the corpse and carefully took the head that was near fallen down. She pushed backwards the long hair – they were blonde, almost white, as each of them warriors'. She untangled them as she could and wiped away the blood and dust that covered the beautiful face. Then she put it to its right place, with the corpse, and closed the silver eyes for the last time.

To finish she looked around for the weapon of the young woman: a giant sword, the claymore, marked with the same symbol. It had been thrown up at least twenty meters away from the place where she was fallen down; the loss of her weapon obviously killed her. She came back to the corpse and put the sword in the soil as a gravestone.

"At least" thought Albane, meditating at the grave, "she died as a human…"

Then she took a deep breath, went right to the monster which she took her own claymore from and joined Alice. She put her sword in the soil and sat, her back against the blade, cross-legged near her friend. She herself had a gaping wound on the lips, and blood slowly flew from her arm and her thigh; she could have drown on her yoki aura to cure herself but she didn't want to use it more that it was needed, and she found her wounds were minimal.

So she had nothing more to do but wait for a member of the Organization to find them. Which, she knew it, would happen very soon: she didn't know how, but the men in black could always locate the young warriors and joined them in a surprisingly short time. Were they lead by their yoki aura? The men themselves had no one… they were nothing more than simple humans. Unlike the warriors, they never had been forced to take in yoma's flesh and blood… they didn't have those silver eyes which allow to detect the demons hidden into human forms, and their body had never changed, never suffered…

Albane looked at Alice. The half of her face that she could see was stained with blood, covered in bruises. She was an offensive warrior and needed more time to recover; how long will she need this time? Three, four days? Or maybe even more, considering the horrible rip in her back. She softly put her hand on the blonde hair covered in dust and blood. Feeling guilty to not have protected her, to not have seen her fall, she finally fell from exhaustion.

* * *

Alice slowly opened her eyes. She felt a bit weak, a dull pain still haunted her. She vaguely remembered the fight, the monster's claws slashing her back, taking her by surprise… Where were her friends? Were they still alive? She looked around her. She was in a cell of Staff's fortress, headquarter of the Organization. She was alone, completely naked in harsh sheets.

Cautiously she stood up to examine herself in the mirror. Contorting herself, she saw that she had only a tiny scar on her back, in the continuation of her hair which, now carefully washed and untangled, stopped under her shoulder blades. She wondered for how long she laid there asleep to have so much recovered. For the rest, nothing had changed: she had no other scar but the star-shaped one on her chest, right on the plexus. She put her fingertips on it. It was as if a second heart was pulsating here, softly, barely audible but yet here… maybe it was a part of what that had prevented her from dying during the last fight. This beautiful, pure love…

"So, are you alright?"

Alice jumped. In the mirror, she saw that a young woman with long blonde hair – even longer and brighter than hers – and almond-shaped eyes just came in, a smile on her face: Albane. She turned to face her and nodded with a faint smile.

"What about you?" she asked.

"I'm fine. Finally I wasn't so much wounded."

"And what about Elina?"

"It's finished for her", Albane sighed, with a deep regret in her voice. "I couldn't save her, there was nothing to do… the Awakened Being disarmed her and…"

"What did you do with her body?"

"I've put it in a clear place, with her sword as a gravestone, as usual."

Alice nodded again then turned back to the mirror. Albane smiled, understanding that the conversation was closed.

"Always so wordy…" she said softly.

As an answer, Alice shot her a blank look across the mirror.

* * *

**Author's comment** : I hope you enjoyed it, I suggest to read the 2nd chapter which I think is better than this one...

Don't hesitate to review :)


	2. Chapter 2 : The leaving

**Disc **: I do not own Claymore.

Italics show characters' thoughts.

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**Chapter 2**

Lying on her back, Claire was waiting for the moon's brightness to fall at the exact place of the dormitory she cared to note the previous night. It would mark midnight, and it would be time to go. She visibly had not much longer to wait…

As she often did when she didn't sleep, she let herself be haunted by her memories. A woman met in the course of her childhood's peregrinations with the awful demon… a sublime woman, with so sad look, with so much suffering behind the faint smile which used to wander her lips. The waves in her hair, her scent, her voice, her way – full of softness – she had to say her name... That way she had to take her in her arms in those nights where even the peacefulness of stars and moonlight couldn't prevent nightmares from seizing her.

She remembered everything, the slightest detail, this intense happiness and this quiet peace that ruled their universe… This very night, as many others – no, maybe stronger this night – she was thinking of this goddess of love. This angel, this woman of tragic beauty, who was engraved on her memory forever and ever.

Claire sighed. She didn't like to let herself go with nostalgia; this always ended up hurting her, bruising each fiber of her body. The brightness of the moon had now joined the point she noted before: this was the right time to go. As softly as possible, she pushed aside the white, frail arm that was put around her waist and got up with the strongest care to not awake the child asleep by her side. Let her there broke her heart, but that was the right thing to do…

She silently headed for the dormitory's door and, before she went out, she took a look around it. There they were, the six others survivors of the Northern Battle… However, one bed still remained empty.

She finally went out in the corridor, went past some doors at her left which led into other dormitories – Ravona soldiers' ones – and, a bit farther, she opened a door on her right, which led into a small room. She entered it and closed the door to muffle any noise she could make; she opened a trunk, put out of it her clothes and, after she had taken off the large shirt which she used to sleep with, she rapidly dressed up. Then she took her sword that was against a wall and put it on her back.

Going out again she went to the end of the corridor, where she took an endless spiral staircase up to the common room, which the ghosts shared with the soldiers when they weren't training in the basement or patrolling by night at the top of the city walls. Galatea was there, wearing her habit, quietly sitting near a window, as if she was contemplating the silent empty town lower down. She welcomed Claire with a smile. She was blind now but her reading of energy was truly enough; it was developed and precise to such a point that she could perceive each ghost's hidden aura.

"So, this is the great night?" she said in a low voice.

"Do you want to prevent me from leaving?"

"Not at all. There are some things you need to get rid of before you can undertake something against the Organization…"

"Will you take care of…" she began, deliberately evading the latter remark.

"Don't worry. Surrounded by nine accomplished warriors, your little protégée has nothing to fear."

"Thanks."

Claire led to a door at the opposite the one she came by. With her hand on the handle, she said:

"Goodbye, Galatea."

"Be careful."

Claire answered by an evocative silence. And then she left out. She went down another endless spiral staircase and, passing by a little secret door, she found herself to be in a lane behind the barracks. The soldiers, the only ones to know the presence of the young warriors, had allowed them to have one of their dormitories; in exchange, the girls participated to the town's surveillance, by night, when no inhabitant would recognize them.

That very night, as none of the former Claymores was on duty, Claire took advantage of their sleep to leave – she didn't expect to meet Galatea – because she hated saying her goodbyes. Checking that nobody was there, Claire came up to the town walls, a few meters ahead, and went along them for a moment, always looking after any presence… When she arrived to a section of wall that was covered with imposing ivy leafs, she groped for a tiny opening, which she soon freed. Only a few trusted people knew about it: the former warriors and the soldiers Gark and Sid.

The next moment, Claire was outside. A soft breeze, that the high walls prevented her from feeling until now, worked its way through her hair, and a shiver went through her nape. She took a deep breath, tightening her long black cloak around her body, and hid the upper half of her face in the shadow of the hood. Her silver eyes were much more visible by night – the ghosts hadn't anymore anti-yoki drug since a long time, and they had to take precautions. The moment had finally come…

She began to walk, straight ahead to the South. She had heard that her aim, at present, was in that region, or was recently passed there. It was the ideal point to begin her hunting…

* * *

_Ah… Well, I feel__ a bit peckish._

In the darkness, Helen thought about what she could eat. She beat about the bush a little longer then she opted for an apple – it was her mascot food after all. She turned away from the wall to get out of her bed and, silently, she got up. She suddenly remembered that this was the night, the fateful night of Claire's departure… she cast a glance at the latter's bed and believed her heart skipped a beat: Claire wasn't here… but her protégée neither!

_Don't panic… she must have woken, seen that Claire's gone and come to the common room to cry her heart out…_

Helen, a little nervous, went to the staircase at the end of the corridor, climbed up the steps four at a time and emerged in the large room. Contrary to what she expected, the young girl wasn't there.

"Well, there are a lot of people coming and going here tonight." a gently mocking voice softly said.

"What?"

Helen adapted her vision to the darkness: Galatea was there.

"Gala, we've got a problem, the brat has vanished!" Helen murmured hundred km an hour, seize by stress.

"Helen."

"And that's that! Claire has only just gone and her kid already plays tricks on us…"

"Helen…"

"We'd better find her right now, because if she gets lost somewhere, we're gonna end up dead when Claire comes back!"

"Helen!"

"What?"

"Think just a sec, shall you?"

"What do you mean?" Helen asked, her stress giving up to her curiosity.

"Claire is gone tonight. You know their story… You know that child cannot take loneliness."

"So what? She stays with us, if she feels alone with nine persons, what more does she want!"

"She needs only Claire. It's Claire and no one else that she wants."

"She shows favoritism" Helen said with irony. She began to see what Galatea was getting at and her thoughtlessness was coming back.

"And you know she's stubborn."

"Yeah… for this, they perfectly match. When they are up to something…"

Helen stopped. In her head, she called herself all the names under the sun. It was so obviously logical that because of her personality, Claire's protégée decided to chase after her! Helen gave a slight laughter.

"Ha, that's why you told me 'lot of people coming and going'!" she said, taking off Galatea's voice, suddenly understanding. "You've _seen_ them leaving…"

"I even think that the girl had prepared her trick. She should have heard when Claire announced to us that she intended to leave tonight, and I suppose she pretended to sleep to not miss her departure…"

"She's a crafty devil. But she's dead stubborn." Her tone became lighter and, glancing everywhere around her, she added: "Well, did I not come for an apple?"

* * *

Claire let again herself get caught by memories. This time however, her heart was a little less heavy: she finally could _act_ against despair. She continued moving forward a long time, in a grassland that extended as far as the eye can see, spotted here and there by some bushes roughly treated by the season's heat.

Suddenly, somewhere behind her, there was a crack. It was faint, but in the deep silence of the country, barely disturbed by nocturnal insects' rustlings, it was perfectly audible. She slowed down, listening. Was it an animal? A human? At this hour, one could reasonably think that it was something harmless, so she turned round. At first she saw nothing, and then a small frail figure emerged from behind a bush.

She immediately recognized her, and sighed when the figure softly approached.

"What are you doing here…" Claire said.

"I don't want you to leave me…" the figure answered with a voice clear as pure water.

"Yet I have to. I'm gonna do something dangerous, you could die."

"But me, I don't care if I die. I just wanna be with you."

"But…"

The small figure took a big step forward, planting herself in front of Claire. She raised her head and stared at her. She was determined, stubborn; and in the same time, her large hazel eyes were brimming over with love and admiration. Claire furtively had the feeling – and it made her feeling soften – that she was looking at who she herself was, nine year old, when she kept at following this extraordinary woman which yet had rejected her at the beginning. Claire sighed again and put her hand on the long brown hair of her protégée:

"You're as stubborn as a mule… Alice."

The little girl gave her a wide smile, and Claire suddenly felt as if she was surrounded by soft warmth. Then, silent, together, hand in hand, they left to the South.


	3. Chapter 3 : New mission

**Disc**: I do not own Claymore.

As usual, italics are for thoughts.

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**Chapter 3 **

« Alice ? »

The young woman turned round. The man in black stood at the entrance of the training room. He was wrapped in a homespun outfit, his face rolled up in a kind of black turban only showing his eyes. Alice turned away from the humanoid wood target she had just slashed to pieces with her blade, and put back her sword in its holster on her back. She headed for the new incomer with lassitude.

"What do you want?" she sighed.

"I've got a new assignment for you."

In her face, impassive as usual, Alice's silver eyes slightly began to shine, her look suddenly showing her little interest. The man answered with nonchalance:

"Four demons, in the town of Tosh. It's three days of walking from here. It seems that one of them, or more, is a Voracious Eater. So you'll meet three of your comrades there."

"Fine."

Unceremoniously, she headed for the door, her face always so impassive.

"You already leave?" the man in black asked, obviously surprised. "Your back was ripped to pieces only three days ago."

"Demons are not gonna kill themselves, are they?"

"You shouldn't be so careless about your safety."

She shrugged and went out. Under the star-shaped scar, the beating got a little stronger. Was it to warn her about something?

Getting back to her cell to complete her outfit, accompanied by the only noise of her steel boots on the paved ground, she tried to remember the road to Tosh. She went there once when she was a child but something, perhaps a memory, seemed to slip away from her thought. Something that she buried in her mind long ago, to protect herself, to not die of despair.

When she arrived in her cell, she forced herself to chase away those thoughts. Absent-mindedly, she put around her waist that kind of belt with steel plates that protected her body up to about half-thigh, and the usual steel wrist guard. Then she made sure that she forgot nothing – even if she knew that since she owned nothing but her sword, she couldn't easily forget something – and she went out.

Three days later, Alice arrived in front of a great stone arch: the entrance of Tosh. It was market day; the street in front of her was rather lively, many inhabitants were gone out to do shopping or simply talk with the stallholders.

She moved forward in the street. The jangling of her steel armor attracted glances and heads turned when she walked past them. Silence rapidly surrounded the place. Everyone looked at her, both scared and fascinated.

The young woman had a thin and graceful body, and seemed so fragile, so how could she wear a steel armor and hold in only one hand the claymore, when even the strongest men needed both hands to use it?

Claymores were told to be half-human, half-demon. One told that they had in their body, in their own flesh, demon's flesh and blood… that they inherited their speed, their strength, and powers that surpass the humans' capacities by far. And those silver eyes that allowed them to find the hidden demons… And sometimes, they succumbed to their inhuman part, and their bodies became demons' ones… precisely, they became Awakened Ones.

While she was walking past them, Alice perfectly heard all the whispers of the inhabitants. With such information – which, for all that, were correct – their reaction was not surprising. Alice was used to it for a long time and now, she felt completely indifferent.

The street led to a large place with a big fountain right in its center. The young woman stopped and took a look around her. People had taken refuge in door-frames or behind the shop windows. Whenever she looked at one of them, it was as if he instantly tried to bury himself to get away from her; it was as if he feared that she found a demon in him and she threatened to kill him right here and now.

Alice sensed that the town stank of Yoki – happily the human cannot sense that; it would be worse for them if it really was a smell –, to such a point that she herself couldn't even determine the position of the comrades she had to meet. Normally she just had to read their Yoki flow, it was perfectly clear… she asked to everybody present:

"There are other women like me here. I need to know where they are."

For a moment no one dared to answer. Alice looked all around the place and finally, an old man appeared, trembling, from under a stall. With a shakily voice, his eyes widened, he mentioned an inn, near the town's exit, showing its direction. Alice stared absent-mindedly at him for a second – her way to thank him? – and headed to the inn.

A moment later, she entered the inn. The innkeeper immediately retched; pallid, trembling, he took refuge behind his counter. Before Alice could even ask something, he stammered, pointing upstairs:

"First door… on the right…"

* * *

"There is the last one!" a young woman cried out when Alice pushed the room's door. "You're late" she noted immediately, "We're waiting for you since yesterday!"

Alice didn't even react. The latter woman stood in the center of the room, fists on the hips, her face showing challenge and disdain. A second warrior was sitting on a bed and a third, standing near a window, looked at the street below. Alice had only just closed the door when the first lady began to speak again:

"Now that we all are here, we have to talk about the assignment. Did Ermita told you about four demons, whose one of them or more is a Voracious Eater?"

The three others nodded.

"I'm here to be your captain" she continued, "I'm ranked n°9. I don't care about your names, just give me your numbers."

The sat young woman was n°13, the one next to the window was n°22.

_It seems that's a real Awakened hunt… we've got that one within the top 10…_

Everyone knew that the women of the top 10 were powerful to such a point that they were formidable, in the eyes of both the demons and the comrades. But such a power could be acquired only by experience and, very often, with repeated use of Yoki… Alice had difficulty trusting them; furthermore, they often were boringly arrogant.

Yes… All of the top-ranked ones were not like that… Alice knew a few ones who were normal women, years ago… but they were former warriors, so they weren't brain-washed by the Org. anymore…

While she thought of it, Alice had a strong feeling of déjà vu. It was as if she suddenly was living the life of someone else…

As she took a long time to answer, the three warriors turned to her:

"So?" the captain said, getting impatient.

"47."

As Alice expected, the others opened their eyes wide, and all of them, especially n°9, burst out bad laughing. Alice didn't look down for all that, her face and eyes as usual expressionless.

In the Org's hierarchy, there were 47 ranks, and Alice didn't need them to remember that.

"What the hell am I doing with you?" n°9 said after a last giggle. She seemed very irritated. "How could the Org think that you're strong enough for an Awakened One?"

Alice could have answered that it was not her first hunt, but if her concrete experience was important for n°9, she would have ask it to each of the three. But she didn't even wanna know their name, so she probably didn't care of their experience too.

_If she only trusts such stupid thing as ranks, well, let her trust whatever she wants._

"What a drag…" said n°9 – she didn't have finish ranting at her. "What did I do to Ermita to deserve that?"

She added the last words as for herself, eyes to the ceiling. 13 and 22 didn't laugh anymore. They were torn between scorn and curiosity in front of the emotionless Alice. The latter suddenly had again that feeling of déjà vu: she deeply hoped that the things won't turn out as they did in i_that/i_ past… because it already was boring.

But 9 came closer to Alice, very close, her look more scornful than ever. She studied her attentively. No physical distinctive feature – not even the fact that she was a bit small – allowing her to justify the inferiority of the young woman, she muttered:

"Come at midnight in the wheat field at the exit of that town. I want to know what you are worth."


	4. Chapter 4 : Challenged

**DISC **: I don't own Claymore.

As usual, italics blah blah... Hope you'll enjoy this one. Thanks for reading :) Don't hesitate to review!

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**CHAPTER 4**.

At midnight, Alice was in the wheat field mentioned by 9. Nobody was there. She quietly began to wait, watching the stars, wondering about the battle of the next day. If the Org was not even sure that there would be Voracious Eaters, what could justify the presence of four Claymores and especially, of a Single Digit? Will they meet again an Awakened Being, with inferior demons? The simple fact that there were several of them was strange; demons generally avoided being in a group… there was something wrong in this configuration, but she couldn't precisely get what.

9 wasn't there yet. Alice began to get used to the idea of a stupid joke when suddenly, she sensed a hybrid Yoki flow jetting right behind her! She jumped aside, barely avoiding the attacker, and turned round straight away, drawing her claymore, her senses in alert.

Here was 9, who now looked at her in astonishment.

"Did you hear me?" she asked.

"No."

"So… you sensed me?"

"Your Yoki was as discreet as a clumsy oaf's one."

In the moonlight, Alice saw 9's face scowling. She didn't expect that such a low-ranked Claymore could so precisely sense a restrained Yoki flow, and answer her back in such a harsh way; Alice didn't seem impressed in the slightest. 9 gave her a steely, challenging look, then rushed towards her with her brandished sword:

"Let's see what you're worth, you brat!"

Alice parried straight away, flexed knees, her sword horizontally up in the air to hold the attack back. She saw in 9's look that this fight was not a simple spar, but an attempt to strengthen her position of Captain; and an attempt to humiliate her. Alice pushed her back, jumped backwards and prepared herself to a new assault.

Then 9 plainly got to the heart of the matter: her moves, her jumps, her blows were quick, accurate, smooth, and yet powerful; the rhythm of her sword blows was so high that Alice couldn't even strike back and barely parried. She tried to increase her speed but she soon understood that the only way to surpass her opponent was to use her Yoki… and for a simple humiliating session, it was out of the question. So she tried her best to avoid, parry the blows, while 9 increased her speed and power again… that, without releasing the slightest ounce of Yoki!

Suddenly 9 vanished; although Alice sensed straight away, with her Yoki flow, that she'll be on her right side, Alice was too surprised and exhausted to move in time. A fraction of a second later, a thin, warm trickle of blood was slowly flowing out her temple, where she could sense the steel tip of the sword. The whirling air, the turmoil created by the fight suddenly died down. As if Alice was suddenly deprived of the support that her mind had found in that stormy atmosphere, she fell down to her knees, out of breath and, for the first time, clearly conscious of her inferiority.

Beside her, 9 was jubilant. Alice didn't need to look at her to know that she had a huge satisfied smile on her face. Then, resigned and anyway too exhausted to stand up, Alice silently waited for 9 to vanish and for the humiliation to end. Once 9 was gone, in a flash and without any comment – which was eloquent – Alice collapsed in the wheat, overcome by sleep.

* * *

_ The Claymore was now half-Awakened. __Long growths of flesh, endowed with blades, had just spread out her back as sharp wings, which could move quickly enough to allow her to fly. She was walking slowly, threatening, on the cliff. Her long slender legs, which the gradual transformation endowed with hoofs, were nervous, trembling, ready to take her to the opposite side of the battlefield in a flash._

_ But this time, at that moment, running was out of the question; it wasn't the time to frantically chase the despised enemy anymore. The Claymore stopped, rising up with all her height. Her distorted mouth, widened by the transformation, was drawing an infernal smile. The glimmer of revenge was shining in her flaming yellow eyes. _

_She looked down: right in front of her, a little thing stayed on all fours, trembling, moaning, covered with blood. Just a few minutes ago, that sickly tiny thing had been the most powerful Awakened Being of all times… and there, at the bottom of the warrior, all that left was the body of a little girl. _

_The Claymore brandished her sword, slowly, as if to savor the taste of revenge and each second of that moment she waited for a lifetime. Her distorted smile widened again. Her voice came from beyond the grave. Broken by sepulchral death rattles, it was nothing more than the shadow of her human voice; the Claymore repeated:_

_ "You… You killed… her… I'm gonna… I'm gonna… kill you!"_

_The sword was now completely risen, high above the avenging body. All that body was shivering now, the veins stood out her skin almost cracking it, cat's pupils were completely dilated, the face hardly recognizable. The Claymore was making the torture instant last and the little being in front of her was unable to move…_

_ In a corner of the battlefield, sheltered behind a rock, a little girl kneeled down in the dust was watching the scene. She was both horrified and fascinated…__ This half-Awakened she only knew as a human until now was terrifying her… However, she was enthralled by that dark, tragic beauty… gaping at the half-Awakened, she became immersed in everything she could see. She did know that she never forget this disaster._

_The little thing, the real Awakened Being, suddenly looked up at the Claymore. Something abnormal was happening… The Claymore's smile stiffened while her enemy was suddenly getting her horrible shape back…_

_ Abruptly the little creature's claws stretched and, in a flash, even before the Claymore could have __given a hint of move, they pierced through her shoulder. The two creatures stayed fixed for a second and then flew away; the fight reopened, ferocious and raging. A piece of the Claymore's body fell down in the dust with a sound of tortured flesh._

_ The little girl behind the rock scanned the sky where the two enormous figures were vanishing. __They finally disappeared, and a deafening quiet returned on the battlefield. The little girl was crying._

_ She stood up and slowly headed to the piece of bloody flesh._

_ She let herself kneel down in the dust and, trembling, she picked up the sharp piece of wing. She didn't care about the slashes she was digging into her hands. It was warm, the nerves still seemed to convulse… the blood was trickling down and spread her clothes, joined her own… she closed her eyes and, still crying, she held the piece of wing tight against her little body, as if to merge it into her own flesh.

* * *

_

"Hey, 13, look at that… she moves in her sleep, as a dreamy dog!"

"She's having a nightmare, how pretty she is…"

"What a drag!" 9 cried out. "A nightmare. And she thinks she can face Awakened Beings!"

Alice was huddled up in the wheat, her body vaguely tossing and turning in her sleep. 9 strongly kicked her in the shins; the pain abruptly woke her up.

She opened her eyes to see in the early dawn light three mocking smiles. She stood up, trying to save a little dignity, flicked her cape off and put her sword in its holster. 13 and 22, who were eagerly waiting for a violent reaction from her part – 9 should have told them the humiliation session of the night – seemed disappointed by her silence and that expressionless face she had learned to show in every circumstance.

"Let's go" 9 grumbled. "And don't slow us down, 47!"

Alice quickly understood the meaning of that remark: if she herself, thanks to the powers inherited from the demons, could walk really fast – far faster than ordinary humans –, the other Claymores easily surpassed her and she almost had difficulty to follow them.

Once again, she had the feeling that she was living _someone else_'s life.

But she didn't care about her difference, and about being roughly handled by her congeners… She perfectly knew where this "weakness" came from, and her situation was intentional… She wasn't like the others, not really born of the same process, and hers was so much more noble and pure that the simple assimilation of demon's flesh and blood…


	5. Chapter 5 : The strange foes

**DISC**: I don't own Claymore.

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**CHAPTER 5****: The strange foe(s).**

After an hour of walking - four or five hours at a human pace - the four young women were right in the ascent of a small mountain. Demons' presence was strongly perceptible; however, the Yoki flow remained blurred with variable intensity. That was strange. Once again, Alice had the feeling of missing something, a crucial piece of information or sensation. But all that she could do was to follow the others until they unmask the demon; at that moment is when she would discover him...

That was it! - The demon.

She could feel only one aura - strong and blurred – though Ermita and 9 had told them earlier that they would have four demons to face. She was about to point it out to her congeners but the rest of the team suddenly stopped. The crumbly path enlarged there to form some kind of overhang above the empty space. And at the very end of this, an enormous mass of sticky, grayish flesh seemed to be waiting for them.

The demon was simply gigantic. Actually, he was as tall as an Awakened Being – a very tall Awakened Being. Sensing their presence behind him, he slowly swiveled. He looked down upon them and on his gray face, his ugly mouth split itself into a smile that looked like a gaping bite.

"What a beautiful gift," he said, looking closely at each girl. "The previous ladies they sent were not so cute... Also, let's see if you taste better…"

He started to move, nonchalantly, as the girls drew their swords.

"Let's go while he's still alone!" 9 shouted, running towards him.

The demon burst into laughter and while she jumped and brandished her claymore towards his face, he mowed her down with only one claw, throwing her against the flank of the mountain. She quickly got off the ground while 13 and 22 were trying to attack on both sides in order to distract the monster and allow 9 to wound him more effectively. He pushed the three back effortlessly but they got on their feet again, covered in dust, 9 already having a deep slash on her cheek.

Then Alice entered the fight; and while the monster stretched out his claws to transfix 13, she cut off his hand, which fell on the ground with a stream of purple blood. The monster seemed to be taken aback for a second, considering his painful stump. But even before Alice could have gained height to slash his arm more critically, he seized her in his other hand to put her in front of his eyes.

Alice was compressed between the monstrous fingers. At any time, he could decide to squeeze her and juice her body up like a fruit. She could feel her bones cracking; her heart almost exploding. She had to use her power, she had to summon the hideous beast within her, otherwise, she would die. The demon enjoyed himself by talking to her but since her senses were chocked by pain, she didn't understand what he was saying. There was only that grasp which got tighter and tighter…

Then, an excruciating pain, before the blackout.

9 had just pierced one of the demon's eyes, making him throw Alice away, who hardly landed farther – unable to move after the fall. 9 ignored whether she was dead or simply knocked out – a thin stream of blood was running from her body into the dust –, but she didn't have the time to grouse about Alice's weakness: she had to dodge the monster's attacks, while she tried to build a strategy with the other two.

The demon was too fast. Barely moving, he was now single-eyed and with only one hand left; yet, wherever they could go, the warriors ended up facing his giant claws. They couldn't reach him. Moreover, they had to expect the arrival of his companions at any time.

Finally, they resolved to summon their Yoki aura, to the point that the three seemed to be close to awakening. They were so fast that they appeared to be flying; their swords were barely visible under the velocity of their slashes yet the demon parried every time.

Suddenly a loud cry rent the air and time itself seemed to stop: 13, her eyes wide open, was in the air, impaled on three of the demon's claws. With his other arm, the latter took advantage of this moment of stupor to splat 22 against the mountain's side.

Then he limply let 13 fall to the ground before slowly approaching 9.

The latter was thinking at full speed: 13 was lying down in a blood pool, three gaping wounds in her body; 22 was crashed into the mountain, and 47…

There was the rustling of a cape, a loud steely noise and a shout. 47 stood just in front of 9, one of her knees on the ground, her sword in the air, parrying the fatal blow the demon was about to throw.

Alice was still shaken by the knocks she received, but she couldn't get around to it. She felt that she couldn't resist any longer, so she reluctantly decided to summon her Yoki and, drawing more power from it, she managed to push back the demon's claws with a stronger impulse. She got up on her feet while the monster now considered her with a new interest.

Keeping her sword ready to slash, 9 came just beside Alice - their eyes meeting.

9 saw that her irises, of a gold yellow when she had pushed the claws, had come down to silver.

"Thanks…" 9 said.

Alice ignored it but answered:

"I had no time to tell you this, but…"

Alice interrupted herself to strongly kick 9 away with her foot to prevent a fatal attack. Everything had happened in a flash. In that instant, the demon's claws had torn through the empty space that was meant to be 9's body. However, in its assault, the monster lost his second hand.

While the monster moved back, howling with pain, the gaping wound of his missing arm splashed blood all around. 9… barely getting up, gazed at Alice with a look of disbelief. Did she lie about her rank? Lowering as far as possible her own Yoki level, she seemed to use again, progressively, her ability to sense the slightest strain of Yoki. Then she could anticipate her foe's moves.

She had used that technique the previous night, in the wheat field; it had allowed her to sense 9's arrival. 9 had to admit that it was quite effective in battle.

"The four demons Ermita talked about are right in front of us, all of them in this one," Alice achieved.

"But… how…"

"I guess some demons acquire along the time this ability to divide themselves…"

"And what should we do?"

"That's an excellent question," Alice answered while she parried, without even looking, a blow that was coming on her left.

"But we have to find an answer quickly." she concluded.

When the two warriors turned again their attention to the monster, he just had stopped the purple blood flow which ran from his stumps and his empty eye socket. He seemed fulminating.

"Enough of this game, you insolent swines!" he yelled. "I'm gonna butcher you all!"

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**Author's comment** : sorry for being late but I had some problems with this chapter ^^' I hope you've enjoyed it.

All my thanks to my beta for his patience and help :D


	6. Chapter 6 : Fight and Breakthrough

**DISC**: I don't own Claymore.

Italics are Alice's thoughts.

Previously: Alice just understood that the four demons Ermita told the team about are all in the big one they first fought...

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**Chapter 6: Fight and Breakthrough.**

Suddenly, the demon got bigger at incredible speed like a balloon fattened with air, nailing the young women to the spot. And so unexpectedly, his enormous body exploded: purple matter and four figures shooting out quickly like shrapnel from a bomb and now, the warriors ended up facing the four demons Ermita had mentioned.

Each one was four times smaller than the first which meant they still were slightly taller than the girls, seemingly much faster and above all, had all their limbs and two eyes.

"Damn!" 9 grumbled. "It'll all have to be done again!"

"Look out! On your right!" Alice shouted.

9 lifted her sword just in time to fend off the blow. Without Alice, she would have been beheaded.

But she had no time to ponder on this thought. Two demons were attacking on their left; the fourth monster had just joined the one on 9's right. Each girl had two demons to fight and in a flash of pride, 9 thought 'Let's see if 47 is better than me!' then plunged into the battle.

The roaring demons and clanging of swords sang a furious melody: drilling and stinging the air under the fierceness of the billowed above the ground; the gravel road was now covered in purple and red bloodstains. 13 and 22, wounded, remained unconscious in a corner of the battlefield while 9 and Alice were hardly fighting to save their lives.

Alice felt sweat drops along her cheeks, her muscles were burning; she was almost out of breath. She was at the top of her strength and speed and she could barely follow the demons while she dodged their claws…

_ Stay calm… watch their aura… feel it… _

She tried her best to concentrate on the demons' Yoki flows, but they were two and she was alone; they were quick and she was tired…

_ Damn it… they're too strong… I can't handle it__ any longer…_

She _knew_ that she _had to_ _do_ _that_. She _had _to use it - her Yoki aura. But she knew herself, she knew her body, the slightest nerve, the slightest vein, the slightest fiber… she knew that her Yoki pool was small and each time she drew it**,** was a danger, more for her than any other warrior. And she already used it in this battle; even if it was just for a few seconds, just to push away the demon's arm in order to protect 9, she could still feel the Yoki stamp on her flesh.

_ I d__on't wanna use it… I don't want to awaken… _

Suddenly a claw narrowly missed her left shoulder – which meant that she was moving dangerously slower than before.

_ I have to… use it…_

Slowly she summoned the hideous darkness within her. She sensed it growing up, filling her body with strength and hate. She felt human cells bursting while purple blood invaded her veins…

_Stop it now_.

Suddenly, there was a detonation, a blue lightning, and Alice loudly cried. 9, who had just chopped a head off, swiveled just in time to see her comrade's sword slashing her foes in two, one after another, in a single move. The next moment, a strong blow to her stomach threw 9 against the flank of the mountain; breathless, she looked up, trying to raise her sword against the demon which was about to crack her skull**.**Surprised and out of breath, she reacted too late - she was going to die…

The demon froze. His arm was risen, the point of his claw almost on 9's forehead. But all of a sudden, his body split into two from head to toe, collapsing in a pool of blood.

Alice was firmly standing behind him, tightly holding her sword whose tip had cracked the ground with the might of its slash. Catching her breath, she gazed at 9. Her irises were colored in a glowing yellow, her skin was slightly darker, and her veins were visibly throbbing on her temples and face; the aura slowly, gradually overcoming the rest of her body. The quality of the Yoki summoned by Alice made her looking as strong as a Single-Digit… then the captain had a strange thought: she didn't want to face the Awakened form of this Claymore, even for the world. And, for once, she didn't care about her rank.

Alice's fringe was stuck on her forehead. Her long, straight, silky hair was spotted with purple blood and dust, some locks falling over her shoulder onto her chest. Her whole body was shivering and all of a sudden, the marks of the released aura disappeared from her body and with a sigh of exhaustion, she fell onto her knees.

9 leant over her. She was impressed by her aura and still couldn't believe that such a weakling could actually be so strong. She was about to say something but Alice looked up at her before she could open her mouth:

"I'm fine," she said with a breath. "Join the others… I'm coming…"

9 stood up, too astonished to answer back, and walked towards her two other comrades. They were still alive; 22 was regaining consciousness, and 13, half-conscious, was using her defensive abilities to heal her injuries. 9 reclined her back against the rocky wall - half-way between Alice and the other two - and ran her hand through her short spiky hair with a sigh of relief.

She kept looking at Alice; the latter flicked her sword to dispel the blood. Her large eyes had quickly returned to their silver color; she seemed to use her Yoki more reluctantly than any other warrior. Now that her aura was lowered again, she seemed as weak as she did the first time they met. 9 was thinking that there was definitely something strange with Alice when the latter, slipping her blade back in its sheath, slowly joined her.

"Is everything fine?" Alice asked.

"Yes. 22 is waking and 13 is already patching her up," 9 answered.

"All the better."

She was about to leave when 9 abruptly asked:

"Are you really number 47?"

_What's that question for?_

"Of course I am."

"Yet you seem so strong for the lowest-ranked warrior…"

"Why would I have lied?"

"I don't know… in order to hide some things from the Organization…"

"I don't hide anything at all."

"Then tell me why someone who reads the auras so accurately, who can seem as strong as a Single-Digit, why someone like you ends up with this rank!"

Alice was hesitating. She seemed to be miles away.

_The little girl let herself kneel down in the dust of the battlefield and, trembling, she picked up the sharp piece of wing. She didn't care about the slashes she was digging into her hands. It was warm, the nerves still seemed to convulse… the blood was trickling down and spreading on her clothes, joining her own. She closed her eyes and, still crying, she held the piece of wing tightly __against her little body, as if trying to merge it into her own flesh._

Alice took a deep breath and cast a probing glance to 9. The latter's face showed only a sincere curiosity, so she decided to answer.

"I'm the last warrior because I'm less strong, less quick than you all."

"Oh please. Don't tell me something that I already know."

Alice paused, looking at the distance. Then she softly answered:

"I'm less strong and less quick because I'm not a half-breed."

"What?"

Alice was still looking away. She hated talking about herself.

"I don't have demon flesh and blood within me. They are the ones of another… comrade."

_'Comrade'… what a weird word… you were so much more than just a simple friend._

9 stared at her, astounded. Then her eyes puckered up as if seeking something in the deepest of her memories.

"Wasn't there another like that?" she finally said. "A certain Claire, if I remember correctly: the one who received in her the flesh and blood of Teresa of the Faint Smile - the greatest warrior ever?"

Alice nodded, hiding her surprise in front of the knowledge of her captain. The warrior mentioned betrayed the Organization more than ten years ago; actually she was supposed to be dead after the tragic _Battle of the North_. To know her story, 9 must have peeked into the Organization's records, posed questions to the men in black… and they hated questions. But Alice had no time to request details; 9 had switched the topic:

"Anyway, we're lucky to be still alive. Those demons were stronger than I expected. The Organization… honestly, do they care about us really?"

_ Of course they don't._However, Alice found it wiser to hide her opinion.

Actually, she had her thoughts on the matter. Her quite unusual childhood allowed her to hear countless things about the Organization, so she knew their true world was a laboratory to create Awakened Beings… in order to control them and send them into a far larger battle than the daily tasks of the warriors. But Alice, though she revealed this to Albane – her closest friend – had never wanted to learn more about the Organization's purpose. She didn't care about it, she didn't become a warrior for such political tricks… she only kept in mind that it was doubly dangerous to advance past one's limits: one would risk losing all human consciousness, or becoming the Organization's guinea pig. She preferred to conceal this knowledge.

"In my case, of course they don't care," she voiced her opinion. "They probably think that I'm a failure."

"A failure?" 9 quoted. "I'm sure that they saw your potential even before you, yourself, realized it."

Alice didn't answer. What potential? Her special Yoki sensing was accurate, but she couldn't use it without lowering her own aura – in other words, this capacity didn't serve her offensive nature. Plus, she didn't lie about her low strength and speed. One thing was for sure: she deserved the number she had. But, she wasn't bothered; it was merely one fact amongst many. She didn't regret having followed a different process of integration, which made her weaker. Mechanically, she put her fingertips on the star-shaped scar of her chest. The beat beneath it was still there, quiet, reassuring, regular; in harmony with her own heartbeats.

"Are you okay?" 9 asked. "You seem worried."

"I'm fine."

"May I ask something else?"

_Damn. Why do people always have questions to ask?_

"Go ahead."

"Whose flesh and blood did you take in you?"

"I'm sorry but I can't answer."

Alice, who had opened herself up a little during the last conversation, abruptly became withdrawn. One shouldn't ask too much, or rake up the past. 9 seemed disconcerted. She thought she had managed to pierce her armor but was wrong, quite obviously. Alice was not so easy to get through. 9 wondered what horrors could have made her walling in her silence and indifference. Intrigued, 9 unexpectedly felt touched by that strange persona that stood right in front of her and all of a sudden, she left all her arrogance aside and reached out her hand towards Alice:

"Enough of these numbers. You have proven to me that they are irrelevant. My name's Camille."

Alice raised an eyebrow, surprised, and then shook hands with the captain.

"I'm Alice."

"So, you make the introductions without us?"

It was 22 in approach, supporting a still weak 13. She helped the latter to lean against the mountain beside Camille and said:

"I'm Natalie, and her…" she pointed her thumb towards 13, "… she's Diane."

"Glad to meet you," Diane greeted and added, "Sorry I missed the battle..."

"Likewise," Natalie admitted. She then looked away and blushed:

"But it seems that you did a great job 47, you're not as banged up as we expected you to be…"

_Of course, I'm not that bad. I'm just the weakest, not absolute nullity…_

Alice simply nodded and silence fell on the four young women. Considering the monstrous corpses that obstructed the road, they now realized how lucky they were to be still alive. And bringing the tips of their swords together, they promised each other to stay alive until the day they would meet again.

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A/N: Thanks to my dear beta for the amazing job he made and for his patience with me ^^


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